This book is dedicated to my good friend Michael R. who has helped me to find the courage to face life, more than he appreciates.
By not supplying his full name I am respecting his desire to remain anonymous, but he knows who he is. Thank you so much, my dear friend.
Introduction
There is a movement, led by Mind and Rethink Mental Illness, entitled Time To Change which encourages people to talk about mental illness. The intention is to help those who find it difficult to admit to having such problems and also remove fears of the unknown from those around them.
1 in 4 people will suffer from a mental disorder at some time in their life, so it is highly likely that you know someone affected, whether you are aware of it or not. Mine is called Avoident Personality Disorder, which has been a life-long problem.
Mind and Rethink Mental Illness believe that talking about mental health can strengthen friendships, aid recovery, break down stereotypes and take the taboo out of something that can affect us all.
Towards this end I have collected together a number of poems I wrote during my worst times of mental distress. Maybe it will get people talking but at least it gives some idea of how someone like me feels at times.
The first piece is a retrospective piece, looking back at a time many years ago. The rest were written as and when the bad times occurred. How I could write at those times I have no idea, I can only say that it helped. This was how I dealt with it in the absence of any other help. Writing is cathartic. I recommend it.
If anyone reading this can identify with any of the feelings described, I feel for you but would say this: it can pass. I haven’t had a really bad episode for some years.
However, if you are reading this in order to gain some insight into what the depressive mind can experience, I hope you find what you seek.
Going Slightly Mad
She sits on the floor
in the corner of the room,
knees tucked underneath her chin
encircled by her arms,
rocking, rocking, back and forth,
softly crooning some old song
eyes unseeing, fixed and glazed
lost in thoughts of long ago
escaping from reality
a life too full of pain to bear
too frightening to contemplate.
Somewhere in her secret soul
deep within her wounded heart
she knows she cannot stay here
Her family will soon be home
and she must pull herself together.
They must never know about
the secrets of her time alone,
the inner workings of her mind.
But just for now, this little while,
her mind lets go of reason,
flirts with momentary madness,
heeds oblivion's call.
And so she sits upon the floor
in the corner of the room
and wishes she could die.
Nov 2001
A Glimpse Into My Private Hell.
Like swamp gas from its foetid lair
that bursts forth into clean fresh air,
so my thoughts arise unbidden
from the place where they lie hidden
in some stinking mental midden,
bringing me to near despair.
These demons from their souterrain
now come to haunt me once again;
memories awash with sorrow,
love I only ever borrow,
fears about a bleak tomorrow,
percolating in my brain.
They seem so very saturnine
these dark and dreadful thoughts of mine.
Is some monstrous madness lurking
grinning greedily and smirking,
watching, waiting, slowly working,
making me it's concubine?
Why must my mind be so steadfast
and cling so grimly to its past?
Why can I not just cease this travel,
let my tortured mind unravel,
hear the judge bring down his gavel
giving me some peace at last?
Nov 2001.
Drowning
My subconscious mind once opened,
like Pandora's box, releases its evils.
For Pandora, Hope remained
for consolation, mitigation, reparation.
My Hope, a mischievous sprite
lifts me high only to send me
hurtling back to earth.
A malevolent Tinkerbell taunting me.
And yet I cling to her;
like one drowning I cling to her
but my grip is weak.
Dec 2001
Ride Out the Storm
Once again the mind descends
spiralling out of control
down
down
into a deep dark well
sorrow rises unbidden
filling me
till it overflows and runs
cascading down my face
unstoppable
Unendurable
where does it come from
this grief
this sadness?
why won't it let me live in peace?
what reason can there be
for this sense of desolation
which tempestuously
overwhelms my reason?
Once again I must ride out the storm
stay hidden within
peer through the gloom
till the sun breaks through
bringing a new dawn
of tranquillity.
May 2002
Roller Coaster
This roller-coaster ride I call my life
has got me going every which way
wondering what each day will bring
A small boat on a choppy sea
tossed around by
mood swings bearing
little relation to events
Oscillating between rosy tints
and rosé stints
I struggle to keep
my head above water
my life on an even keel
Blue skies, grey skies
come and go
ebb and flow
No forecasts
no gale warnings
no newsflash
Just get up and - whoa!
May 2002
Sad and Pointless
Loneliness, a cancer
eats into the soul
extinguishing, destroying it
bit by painful bit
each passing day is longer
emptier, more bleak
each sleepless night is darker
quieter, and cold
all sense of being human
is lost within these walls
no voice, no touch,
no sight or sound
exists for reassurance
emptiness is all now
all vacant eyes can see
anticipating hell and
eternal desolation
as courage steals away
reality departs
and takes with it forbearance
of this sad and pointless life
June 2002
A Fragile Thing
How fragile a thing is the mind
Sixteen years of arduous crawling
out of the dung heap into the light
clawing and scrabbling, inch by inch
learning the meaning of blood sweat and tears
becoming too confident, thinking you're strong
till a few ill-chosen, innocent words
hurl you back headlong into the shit
sitting here shaking with re-opened wounds
bleeding afresh down my nice new persona
Oh Tinkerbell, you sorry sprite,
how long will it take me this time?
June 2002
A Single Word
Funny
how a single word
can tear your world
Apart
turn it
upside down
inside out
for me
that word is
NUISANCE!
in seconds
it rips away
poise
maturity
Confidence
revealing
the snot-nosed
snivelling
kid
Beneath.
July 2002
Another Crazy Day
With closed eyes I see them
huge and repulsive
insects entering my brain
destroying rationality
demolishing my sanity
reason in freefall
doomed to crash and burn.
2002
Old Memories Awakened.
I found an old diary today.
which stole my peace, just briefly.
March sixteenth of ninety five
I wrote these words in bright red ink:
Have decided I've had enough.
When I feel I'm ready I'll just
kiss it all goodbye.
Life's a bitch.
I didn't do it as you see,
I was hospitalised instead,
but the memories that came to me
when I found those words and read…
I've thrown the diary away.
Such times of overwhelming grief
are dead and gone, or should be,
and deserve a decent burial.
2003
Diary of a Troubled Mind
Day I
Curled beneath the covers
trembling, thumb in mouth,
silent tears dampen the pillow.
Once again oblivion calls
as sanity
slowly
slips
Away
Day 2
A mind bewildered, fogged, befuddled,
thoughts and feelings mixed and muddled,
from the confusion a thought emerges,
sobbed at first, it quickly surges:
I have - the right - to say no...
I have the right to say no.
I HAVE THE RIGHT TO SAY NO!
Day 3
My birthday.
Celebrate? I don't think so.
One card, from my sister
- at least someone remembered -
with some of her poems
on how to be a better Christian.
Or something.
Day 4
It's all a matter of balance.
One wrong move and whoops!
there she goes again;
hurtling to who knows where.
Psyche on the high wire
without a safety net.
Day 5
Lavender, bergamot, ylang ylang;
a recipe for calm.
At last the heart stops pounding,
lies still the trembling arm.
Some semblance of normality
brings reason to the fore
to put my thoughts in order,
to face the world once more.
Day 6
Today I woke feeling normal,
normal, that is, for me.
I realise I'm noticing things,
becoming aware of the outside world;
the roar of traffic, next door's dogs.
A siren wails, and another,
as ambulances pass.
Next door are drilling, hammering;
sounds as if they're coming through.
It's cold today, cold and grey,
Spring halted in its tracks.
Today, perhaps, I can leave my room,
get online, make contact.
Hi Mac, nice to see you
seems like simply ages
since last I touched your keys.
But wait! The trembling threatens,
the heart begins to pound.
Perhaps another day?
No use rushing into things.
I can wait. I can wait...
No, I'm a big girl now.
I can do this. Right?
April 2003
Becoming Nihilistic
Once more the ground beneath me starts to crumble;
once more my errant psyche takes a tumble.
The black bat, night, descends upon my soul,
as long days spent inactive take their toll.
Reason lost, thoughts heavy and ballistic
plummet now, becoming nihilistic.
July 2003
This World is Not My Home
I've never felt at home.
Any place I've ever lived
was just like passing through
since my neonatal welcome -
a slap upon the rear - which is
somewhat depressing but
unfortunately true.
Living can be lonely,
lonely as the last leaf
clinging to a winter tree.
All alone, in company, from
first gasp to dying breath
that's how it's always been
and how it will be.
Nov 2003
Demons Rise
Demons: again they rise
out of the dank and dismal depths;
mocking me, deriding,
taunts insinuate and seethe.
I can scarcely breathe
for the stench of my deficiency.
Too much alone, I'm preyed upon
by echoes of forgotten voices,
shadows of the past.
Malevolent, they torture me
with devastating barbs:
Failed again! How typical
of damaged goods; faded, cracked,
a ruin of a once-bright hope
in need of restoration.
How many tears will it take
to drown these pestilential imps?
So strong, it seems, their grip so tight
by night or day. Away! away!
What would you have me do?
Nov 2003
Black Dog
Me and the black hound
have this kind of uneasy truce;
mostly he just hangs around
out of sight, out of mind
but every now and then he
ups and bites me where it hurts.
Nov 2003
A House
A house but not a home
Strangely impersonal
it harbours stuff
imprisons me
Without a heart
a house is not
a home.
Nov 2003
Words
Words. Just words.
Echoes of a former life
dredging up forgotten feelings;
fucking with my head.
Foul words, calumnies
spawned from insecurity;
jealousy and accusations
filling me with dread.
Words. Just words, but
words have unimagined power.
Will I ever really heal from
all the things he said?
2004
When
When your legs behave like jelly and your body feels like lead;
when your hands won't do things properly and fog infests your head;
when you want to go out dancing but you have to sleep instead
and your life consists of getting up and going back to bed;
When your home is like a prison and you're under house arrest,
when you rarely see your family or any other guest
then it's really not surprising if you sometimes get depressed
and it's too much of an effort eating, washing, getting dressed.
And when you get a visitor it's quite a big event,
like celebrating Easter after fasting all of Lent;
you give it all you've got until your energy is spent
then it's back to being boring to a very large extent.
So spare a thought for folk like us who slog it out alone,
who only contact others or the web or on the phone;
our lives can be quite difficult though we don't like to moan,
and occasionally tears will fall though mostly unbeknown.
Like a cactus in the desert, life has forced us to be tough;
the strength that keeps us going comes from having it quite rough
but underneath the prickles or what seems to others gruff
lies a soft and tender heart that often feels it's had enough.
© 2004
Drops in the Ocean
Looking back I
feel the pain
Again.
Ahead loom years
of emptiness and
Insignificance.
Tears of the past
will be as drops
in the ocean.
2004
On a Day Like Today
On a day like today, when it seems too much,
I long for his presence, his tender touch,
his voice as it tells me I'll be ok,
that I've got what it takes on a day like today.
On a day like today when I want to quit
'cause l'm lonely and tired and feel like shit,
and I want him around in the very worst way,
tell me, how do I cope on a day like today?
On a day like today please forgive me, friends;
though I can't tell my future I know how it ends;
but there's always tomorrow. I hope and I pray.
It's all I can do on a day like today.
Dec 2004
Trying
Trying, trying, to see the light
from a gloomy deep dark well of doom.
Despair and hopelessness prevail,
the future seems uncertain,
as hope once more bids me adieu
and sweet oblivion beckons.
2005
A Familiar Foe
Struggling to stay on top.
The old familiar foe emerges:
tooth and claw and tentacles
clinging, clawing, clutching, dragging,
threatening annihilation
in the depths of dark despair.
Can one ever overcome
the emptiness of feeling worthless,
knowing that one's puny efforts
count for little in the end,
fairly sure that one's demise
will largely pass by unremarked?
Is it merely vanity,
this need to feel significant?
Or is it part and parcel of
our human sociability.
Do other creatures ever know
this monstrous, fearsome desolation,
gnawing at their self esteem?
In time, of course, this too will pass
and life will go on as before:
the demons conquered for the moment,
sent back to the grim miasma
of the mind from whence they came,
once again to lurk unseen.
2005
Invisible
I used to feel invisible,
my presence unacknowledged,
emotions prohibited,
my thoughts inconsequential.
Without appropriate response
life is almost meaningless,
dreary days of this and that,
fatuous and bleak.
Yet life went on, regardless,
filled with busyness and such,
nothing special, nothing much,
getting through the days.
Recently I've realised
it's come to haunt me once again.
The void I've been avoiding
has never gone away.
2006
Losing it.
Losing my shit
falling apart
can't seem to hold
love don't come around
any more but hey
I wasn't worth it
anyway
life is a bowl
of Jell-O
hello
something not quite
right there
fright there
lot of fear
lonely here
can't seem to hold it
together
no more
there's the window
there's the door
love don't come
around here
any more.
2007
Major to Minor
Sunny, funny, honey’d day
expectations riding high
flying, whiffling, endless bliss
when, swifter than a maiden’s kiss,
a sudden squall,
hope plummets, falls;
dashed upon the rocks it lies
shocked and battered,
Mesmerized
then comes the pain:
god-awful, gut-wrenching, terrible grief,
wretchedness beyond belief,
Clinging now to sanity,
I tremble, forfeit vanity,
in the silence comes temptation:
“So - once more the die is cast.
Just let go, know peace,
at last.”
2007
Crisis
Is this what they call a crisis then?
Nothing makes sense any more.
I'm out of control, losing the plot,
thoughts and feelings run amok.
Reason is lost, takes flight and flees,
hides behind absurdities.
The desire to die or harm myself
is becoming quite persistent.
There are some spells of lucidity
when it's hard to believe the other me
who says and does things that appall
the me who would never do them at all.
Euphoria takes turns with fear,
some thoughts erotic, others, drear.
Amid the maelstrom one stands clear:
your heart is beating, listen!
Nights aren't for sleeping any more,
I lie awake for hours;
make cups of tea and listen to
the one who writes my poetry.
Right now the tears won't stop.
They roll, slowly, interminably
down my cheek, then drop.
Drip, drip, drop,
from jaw to lap,
to floor.
At other times I'm numb.
No thoughts at all, no feelings,
just cold and eerie nothingness.
Often I feel bewildered:
is this what it's all about?
I can't I won't I shouldn't I must
and who in the world is there to trust
and when and where and how on earth
and why in the world did she ever give birth
to me.
It's all too hard you see.
Too hard too hard too hard too hard
and I'm coming apart at the seams.
They have to question, can't accept,
they never see, never see...
It's what? It's me? You're sure about that?
Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?
I sometimes say the stupidest things,
no thought behind them. Words have wings,
like wasps they fly and sometimes sting.
No wonder people doubt me.
I doubted too, for far too long.
They called me stupid or worse, a liar.
Now I know better but still desire
acknowledgement; but it's just the same
they don't believe me so what's the point
of having a view at all.
Yes, I'm not easy to understand,
I know I know I know I know
I don't have to be reminded.
It's all too much; retreat, retreat
and find some peace, for a while at least
but I'll pen my thoughts for posterity
until the storm abates.
2007
Indiana Me
It's an Indiana Jones thing,
this journey through my mind;
haunting, harrowing,
the memories I find
Locked away for decades,
deliberately cloaked
to save the inner child from
the feelings they evoked.
Unearthing the unthinkable,
done with utmost care;
one never knows the terrors
that might be lurking there
But now I can make more sense
of things I had to spurn,
bringing them into the light
to let them crash and burn.
2007
In My Grave
When I am dead and in my grave
then I will know peace;
not the peace of some supposèd heaven
but peace on earth
the cool damp earth
wherein my mortal self, in time,
will be absorbed into the ground
and such soul as I posses